Sanctuary
by logicallylivid
Summary: Draco Malfoy's world gets turned upside down by a foray into a new world and an epic road trip. Throw Hermione Granger into the equation and the chance of survival (at least with some sanity intact) is looking slimmer by the minute. Dramione, AU after Order of the Phoenix.
1. Chapter 1

_Draco Malfoy POV. _

"Draco... The Dark Lord calls." Pettigrew's squeaky, idiotic voice broke my concentration.

I was currently in my room in my family's manor, focused on my thick tome of charms.

I felt a chill of fear skitter down my spine at the summons, but didn't let that weakness show to the sniveling mess of a man in front of me.

The Dark Lord calling you was never good. He never summoned you for a light-hearted chat over tea. Chances were he'd be killing or torturing you. Or you could be given a task to do, which is almost worse.

I had long ago realized about myself that I was not a killer, nor was I particularly amazing Death Eater material. It was the summer after my fifth year at Hogwarts, and the Dark Lord himself was residing in my home, luckily as far away from me as possible.

You could say I wasn't the most faithful servant the Dark Lord had. I was pretty much still here because I had no where else to go. My Slytherin friends would rat me out quicker than you could say "backstab". My parents, I'd discovered did not give a care about me. They had, I suppose, when I was younger. They gave me every material good I'd ever wanted. Sure, they weren't exactly affectionate, but they cared in their own way. That had crumbled since the Dark Lord had returned. Now it was all self-preservation with them, and most of the other Death Eaters. Except perhaps Bellatrix and Fenrir, but they were batshit crazy, so they didn't really count.

"Of course," I sneered haughtily at Pettigrew. I stood from my desk, brushed an invisible speck from my immaculate Forrest Green silk shirt, taking my time just to show Pettigrew that he wasn't commanding me around, and had no authority over me.

I strode quickly and casually out of my room, Pettigrew scrambling after me. I never betrayed the fact that I felt like my stomach would soon be trying to escape out of my esophagus. A tidbit like that could get you killed in a house like this.

The Dark Lord was residing in the west wing den, and my walk over seemed far too short. Pettigrew scrambled in front of me and opened the door, like a good little sniveling piece of failure. I shot him another sneer for good measure, and entered the room, masking my apprehension. My dragon hide boots sunk into the plush carpets, and I could hear that giant snake slithering around here, though I couldn't see it.

"Ah Draco!" I turned to see the Dark Lord himself seated on an opulent wing chair by the fire. My father was standing to the right of the Dark Lord's seat. There were no other chairs around. Standing like an obedient servant it was, then.

"I have a little task for you," he said, in his wispy, creepy voice. He always called them 'tasks' not missions of suicide or forays into our impending doom. It irked me. I could see my father with an expressionless face on, ah, he was here for show then, to show me that my parents had no authority over me now, only the Dark Lord did. As if.

"We seem to have a small problem with a Blood Traitor family, the McNabbs, being a bit too sympathizing towards Mudbloods and Muggles, you see. Causing some... Unneeded ruckus in the Ministry. A father, mother, and two children, aged 12 and 8. You will... dispose of them as your initiation."

The chills were back, full-fledged. I struggled to keep my face and posture impassive.

"When you complete this task, you will return to receive a Dark Mark. Rastaban will give you a portkey to an alley near their home and the other details. Do not fail."

His eyes pierced me. I nodded sharply. I glanced towards my father again, to see if he would defend me, now in the moment it mattered the most, but he remained completely impassive. With a mustered (and sarcastic to only me) "Of course, my Lord," I turned from the scene of the final betrayal my father committed towards me and left. Outside the room, Rabastan was hanging about. Upon seeing me, he handed me a rough piece of parchment and a broken quill, which was my portkey.

"Thish'll ativate ah 11'clock. Besht not beh late" He intoned in his scratchy, accented voice. I merely sneered at him and turned on my heel to head back to my room. The portkey would activate in 6 hours, I had some thinking to do.

~~~

Reaching my room, I sat heavily on my soft bed, staring at the slip of parchment and portkey.

I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.

But I had to.

I felt rage then, for being forced into doing this. Being forced into becoming a monster. I had no choice. I had never had a choice. For all the riches my parents had provided me, they had never given me freedom.

I knew I had to do this, if I didn't I would be slaughtered. _Fortuna favet supersunt_ was our family's motto for a reason after all. But think Draco, was there anyway out of this?

I thought through all the possibilities of the moment. I couldn't fight, I couldn't follow orders, so... flight? I had no where to go, except to be on my own, and hide in the muggle world.

Even though it's something my parents never accepted, I knew quite a bit about the muggle world. It would be stupid not to, when you compare their population to ours.

I walked over to the large painting of my family and I over my fireplace. I clicked a small button located on the underside of its frame, then crossed the room to my desk and clicked the button on the underside of it as well. My copy of _Charms for the Charming_ by Gregor Ferral fell off my floor to ceiling bookshelf. I placed it back in its spot, pushing it gently until I felt resistance, then I pushed it firmly. As it was shoved into place, a hidden door made of half my bookshelf swung slightly open.

This hidden room had been here for centuries. Originally used as a secret lockdown room if someone was attacking the manor, I just used it to hide things.

I stepped into the small room. There were shelves on one wall, from which I grabbed a small leather change purse, the size of a wallet. It fit in my pocket and had an infinite expanding charm on it. That had been a devil of a spell to cast, but managed it late in my 5th year. Now I had a few bags that were altered by the spell, but this little wallet was very useful. It was very well done, so I could shove a textbook in the bag without any trouble. It was empty at the moment though.

I picked it up and checked its charm, seeing as I could shove my entire arm in the bag without any resistance, it was still perfect.

I gathered quite a load of wizarding money and placed it in a sack. I had enough money stored here to keep a small country a float for quite a few decades. Just in case, I like to say.

I grabbed a large amount of muggle pounds as well, thankful I was smart enough to prepare for a case like this.

I packed a small but luxurious one man wizarding tent as well, along with enough preserved food to last. I didn't anticipate needing it much, if I hid in the muggle world properly, but you never know. I packed my wand, a dozen books, one on healing, a few textbooks, and some muggle fiction. Say what you want about them, but they had some of the best authors I'd ever seen.

I packed some hygienic products and a fortnight's worth of clothes, muggle and wizard. I was surprised the bag was still only mildly heavy. I had done good wand work, Charms was my best class after all. I packed spare bedding and some flashlights, and battery run lamps as well.

I was well prepared. I guess I'd always known in the back of my mind that one day I'd leave. I had grown up here, but Malfoy Manor had never been a home to me. When I was young, it was where I had to be before my curfew and after I started at Hogwarts it was just where I spent some of my holidays. I had always been flighty in that way. People who knew me called me "obsessively overprepared", but I just didn't like to be caught unawares and unprepared.

After another half hour of packing, re packing and hasty additions to my pack, I was set. I tucked my bag safely deep in my pocket of the clothes I had changed into for the next day. There was no way I was getting any sleep tonight.

In the end, I spent the night carefully planning my escape and adding last minute things to my pack. I was careful not to make it look like anything major was missing from my room, no one could know I was missing until I was long gone.

After checking and rechecking everything, it was finally time to act. I mussed my bed, making it look like I had a nap.

I walked confidently with my slip and portkey to the foyer where all transport was done, under supervision, today was Romulus Villio, a squat, bad tempered man.

I held the portkey tightly as Villio noted my departure.

"Don't fail, Malfoy," he rasped.

And on that cheery note, the portkey turned blue, as it whisked me away from this house of horrors.


	2. Chapter 2

I arrived in a fury of dirt and pebbles. I had been portkeyed into an alley that was mercifully deserted. It looked to be in a village, between a cafe and a bookshop.

I took a minute to dust myself off and thank all deities that this had been a solo mission. Scurrying off would have been a hell of a task if some blood thirsty Death Eater had been with me.

After glancing about to see if anyone was nearby (there wasn't), I quickly removed my long black wizarding robes. In any society they would look rather out of place. I changed into a green t shirt with the brand 'Hollister' written across the chest, dark jeans, and Timberlands, shoes that were durable, being work boots and stylish for teen males.

It would be at this point I feel I should explain my knowledge of muggle culture and life.

It was no doubt that I was raised to be a muggle hating pureblood purist. But have I ever believed all this? Not really. In the beginning, not believing was my secret rebellion against my tyrannical and cold parents. On the outside, I was their poster perfect child. On the inside, well, they were not going to control me. Not believing in what they did was one of the only way I could rebel against my controlling parents. I refused to be anything like them, so blinded by their own ideals and hate that they neglected their only child.

So that eventually became the basis of doubting what my parents preached. But I was the spoiled, bigoted, bully in school because partially, that's how I was raised, and partially because I didn't want to get in trouble with my parents. Even though I rebelled internally, I knew it would be suicide in my family to actually act on that rebellion.

So clearly my home life wasn't tops. This was the start of my escapist behavior. As a kid, I would hide in random places around the manor, but people and house elves could still find me. So I started venturing to the neighboring villages and towns, which is how I acquired all my muggle possessions, as well as observing them, which gave me the practical muggle knowledge. They were really just like any other people.

Not that my parents knew any of that. As far as they were concerned, their son really loved spending time in our expansive gardens.

So here I was, changing into muggle clothes in an alley. I threw on a leather jacket that had a precasted notice me not charm on it, and tucked my robe into my little bag.

I calculated that the Muggles I was to 'take care' of lived a short walk from the alley, if I took a right at the end of the alley. So I walked at a steady pace, and upon reaching the end of the alley, took a right, and kept walking quickly.

* * *

According to the slip of paper, I had reached their house, the lights were dark, everyone asleep. I walked up to the house, dropped a charmed envelope in the mailbox and promptly walked away.

The letter had a nifty charm on it that prevented anyone, except who the sender wanted, from reading it. It contained a few words.

_Run. _

_The Death Eaters have targeted your family. _

_Go into hiding. Do not be seen until the war is over._

_Disregarding this warning will result in your own deaths._

* * *

After a few hours of walking, I had cleared the small village and couldn't see it anymore. I was walking along a flat dirt road, with fields around me. I had seen no one on the road at all, probably because it was about 3 am.

I kept walking.

* * *

By the time the sun was rising, I had passed another sleepy village, which I decided was too small and close to the other village for me to hide safely.

I could see another village in the distance, which was more of a moderately sized town. That would be my place of hiding.

Upon reaching the town, I had to find something to eat. I hadn't eaten anything for dinner the previous night, and I was starting to feel it. Strolling through the downtown area at a casual pace, I decided upon a small diner that would suit me perfectly. It was around 9am at this point, so breakfast would be most fitting.

Removing my notice-me-not jacket, I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and entered the retro style diner and took a seat at one of the counter stools.

A cheery looking woman, probably in her fifties, bustled over, handed me a menu and rattled off the day's specials.

While I was eating my admittedly delicious English breakfast, I took the chance to glance out of the large windows at the front of the diner at the town I was now residing in.

The first step would be to find a place to stay. A hotel was out of the question, as was a motel or bed and breakfast. None of those were good for long, inconspicuous stays, and were expensive to boot. My best bet would be to find a place to rent and get an average job. Try to blend in as much as I could.

There was an abandoned newspaper of the town a few seats down. Scooping it up, I flipped through it until I reached the Classifieds. There were a few rooms for rent, as well as a few job ads.

I went over to the diner's ancient looking pay phone and made a few calls, setting up some interviews to inquire about a room to rent and setting up a few job interviews for the day.

After paying and tipping the waitress, I exited the diner and ducked into a nearby alley. I pulled a large backpack out of my little bag. It would not do to show up hoping to rent a room without any personal belongings whatsoever, talk about sparking conspicuous questions.

* * *

That night I had secured a place to rent, a small basement suite of a lovely old lady's house. Her son had lived there years ago and she was happy to have someone to finally rent it. Both the Walk-out basement door and the fact that the elderly lady forced me to agree to let her cook me dinner every evening had attracted me to the modestly sized house. She claimed that she missed having company around the house as well, as all three of her children were grown up and moved away, and had families of their own, though some of her grandchildren still visited her, she had told me.

I had also luckily gotten a job at a local café. A casual coffee place had been desperate to find some more help. Their three employees were overloaded with shifts and orders, especially since the café was very popular among the hip, younger residents of the town. They had had two other employees, but one had gotten married and moved away, and the other had taken the summer off for maternity leave, which worked out well for my jobless self.

And so, I was set to hide in plain sight.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning I was starting my new job had me very apprehensive. What if I stuck out in muggle society? What if I exposed myself? What if Death Eaters showed up?

Mrs. Flynn, the old lady whose basement I rented, helped put my worries at ease slightly by feeding me up, as if she was my own doting mother, if my mother had ever doted on me. Narcissa Malfoy never 'dotes' so it was a nice and welcome change from the distance everyone usually kept from me.

I walked off to the café, noting the slight mist that lingered around the streets of the town. I waved to Mrs. Flynn as I went, the kind lady seemed absurdly bored and lonely, evidenced by the fact she had convinced me to take the lunch she had packed for me, complete with juice box and snacks.

I was inordinately glad that so far, everything had been going well. I was keeping an eye on the news, hoping that no calamities were reported, nor that any blond unnamed persons were found dead. My parents were playing a perilous game, one they were daft if they thought they were going to win.

I was still at a loss about what to do about school. I had told Mrs. Flynn that I went to boarding school, and that I needed a bit of time away from home. All of that was true, if not seeped in lies by omission. There was no way I could go back home now, if ever. It was true, though that there was no place safer than Hogwarts. And there was no way the Dark Lord would be able to get at me while I was there, even if someone reported to him that I was there. If he couldn't get Potter while the scar-headed idiot was there, than he certainly wouldn't be able to get me.

I arrived at work at the café before it opened, at the request of Meena, the manager. She wanted to get my training for the job started as soon as she could, so I'd get started helping her, Joe, and Theresa with the work. She was very happy to have me, or Drake MacNeil, as I'd convinced her I was. Meena was a tiny girl, a few years older than myself, and very enthusiastic. She was easily likeable, but ran the café with an iron fist. Her dyed jet black hair and multiple tattoos made her one of the most interesting people I'd ever met. She was studying History at the local university.

Joe was her burlier and equally as friendly boyfriend, though he had much more of a calm presence than Meena did. Theresa was around my age, perhaps a year or two older than me. She had large black rimmed glasses that seemed to follow the nerdy chic trend that was popular nowadays. She was a determined student who always had a chemistry or physics textbook on hand for the lulls between customers.

They had all seemed friendly and beyond welcoming, which buoyed my spirits quite a bit. As I became more familiar with the cappuccino machine and the requirements of each drink offered by the café, I looked out over the café's many scattered couches and the small stage set up against the far wall and admired the hominess and cosiness that the earth tone colours and small tables seemed to create, without everything looking stuffy. You would never find such a business in the wizarding world, and I wished there were. This chic coffee shop looked like a place I would love to spend my time, though I almost rescinded that statement when the morning before-work coffee rush started. Theresa, who I was working with at the time, assured me cheerily that this rush was nothing compared to what the café was like when the local high school and university were in session, at least now, all the caffeine addicted students were snoozing their mornings away.

Soon enough, I was filling coffee orders with minimal problems, though I was far from a pro at it like the other three were. I realized abruptly that I was actually enjoying myself. The work was menial, yes, but there was no need to pretend, or present a front like there was at school. I didn't have to worry that if I let my façade slip there'd be consequences from my father, or that any one of my 'friends' could be ratting me out for any reason. The others I worked with seemed genuinely interested by me and good people in general. I enjoyed Meena and Joe's joking manners, and liked to boo with Theresa when they started to make out behind the coffee grinder.

The genuine atmosphere helped distract me from the dark past I'd just run from, though worry still lingered in the back of my mind. Everyone was probably wondering what was keeping me, and I hoped that the family I had been instructed to target had had the good sense to leave their home by now.

Soon enough, my shift was over for the day, Joe arriving to take over from me, keeping with the code that there were always at least two people working behind the counter, sometimes three, if it was a particularly busy hour.

I stretched my arms above my head as I walked towards Mrs. Flynn's. The day was warm and the sun was just setting, turning the dusky sky shades of pink and red. I admired the sunset as I walked, my satchel bag bumping my leg with every step.

* * *

My week continued in much the same way. I became more comfortable both at work and at what was now home. I had bought myself a cell phone, and has opened a bank account as well, helping make me feel less shifty because I no longer had to pay in cash for everything.

The weekend arrived, and I decided to explore the town further. There was a convenient bus service that ran throughout the small downtown, so I had no problem getting around. I bought a few more articles of muggle clothing while I was there. I was ambling down the street when I spotted a book store tucked beside a grocer's. It was small, private, and stuffed with all sorts of books. I spent the rest of my day exploring the books there, and finding quite a few that seemed interesting. The friendly and quiet staff quickly helped me check out and sent me on my way with bright smiles.

I spent the rest of the weekend curled up in my room reading. The weather had turned to light rain, and as I read with the background sounds of the gentle rain, I had to wonder why I hadn't done this years ago. Granted, I probably wouldn't have been able to get away with this any younger than I was, but I was having such a blissful time. The muggle world, was, as I already knew, not as bad as it seemed.

The next few days passed in much the same way. I spent my time working, reading and generally having a surprisingly good time. The amount of time I spent scanning faces for any traces of Death Eaters or looking over my shoulder was even lessening.

I was reading one of my novels at the front till one quiet evening, about two weeks since I started working. There were a few customers in the shop, some typing on laptops, others conversing quietly. Theresa was absorbed in one of her textbooks in the back as she restocked the cups.

Someone entered the shop so I marked my page and set my novel aside, and looked up, straight into the surprised eyes of the one and only Hermione Granger.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mal-"

"What can I get for you, miss?" I said, cutting across her as she nearly revealed my identity. Thank God neither Theresa nor anyone else in the shop was really paying attention to us.

She continued to look confused as I glared at her, hoping she wouldn't say anything stupid or life risking.

The gods managed to smile upon me in that moment, because she just hesitantly ordered a mocha latte and stared at me.

I got her drink started, and grabbed a pen and tore a piece of paper off a pad and scribbled down,

_Granger, meet me at the Bianca Restaurant tomorrow night at 7. I'll answer your questions. Do not blow my cover or tell anyone I'm here until then, got it?_

I handed it to her along with her coffee, she glanced at it, then nodded, heading out the door, as I sagged against the Cappuccino machine.

* * *

I lay sprawled in my bed that night, contemplating the events of earlier that day. Granger was here, someone who could possibly blow my careful cover right out of the water. Of course the bliss that I was experiencing couldn't last too long. Granger's appearance had shocked me back to reality. There was still a war going on, wizards, witches, and muggles were still perishing every day.

I was still bereft of a plan of what to do for school. I needed to go back to Hogwarts, but didn't want to compromise my safety or expose myself to any Death Eaters that may be lingering around. I hoped every day that they weren't searching the towns around the one that contained the targeted family. I cursed my inability to apparate, hiding out would have been much simpler if I could.

First and foremost, I had to deal with the problem on hand. Someone who could expose me, blow my cover, and reveal my true life was here. She could easily tell someone I was here, she owed me nothing. We were enemies, and I wouldn't be too surprised if she hadn't owled Potty or the Weasel yet. Despite this, I still hoped that she hadn't. There was nowhere else I could go, short of continuing to run.

I needed her to keep my secret, that was all. My situation had come down to depending on Granger to keep me safe by keeping my location a secret? I was doomed.

* * *

I went through the motions of the next day completely distracted. I nearly walked out of the house with my shirt on backwards, don't remember talking to anyone, and the entirety of my shift was a blur. I caught Meena giving me a concerned look as I almost gave a customer an empty cup, so I tried to smile reassuringly at her. Her increased concern told me that I had failed to placate her.

For the first time since I started to work there, I was glad when my shift was over. I had spent all my time worrying about meeting with Granger.

I swung by home to change into slightly more formal clothes, and then left for the restaurant.

I arrived fifteen minutes early, just enough time to wring my hands together and remind myself that I had to do this.

Granger arrived soon after I did, and I idly noticed that her hair was shorter and she still looked confused. She sat down across from me and we quietly ordered our drinks. We were silent until the server came back with our drinks and took our meal orders, both not knowing where to start.

After he had left, we both managed to simultaneously blurt out "Why are you here?" and then scowl at each other. I tilted my head at Granger indicating to her that she should go first.

"Well I take summer course at the local university, since my parents live in this town. That doesn't answer what you're doing here Mal-"

"Granger, _do not blow my cover_, so stop saying my name. Call me Drake if you must. Now what is it going to take for you to not tell anyone. Unless you've already told someone?"

She shook her head in response. "You didn't answer my question."

I scowled and looked away from her, at the cheery chicken decorations adorning the family-friendly restaurant, fiddling with the straw in my drink.

"Mal-"

"_Granger_. I will personally make sure you can never speak again if you ever try to say my name again. God, I'm hiding, okay! I'm hiding from the war, and my parents, and the Dark Lord, and no one knows I'm here so I'd like to keep it that way." I finished, incensed, but managing to keep my voice low enough that we didn't look like we were arguing.

We were silent again as the cheery server brought us our entrées, and we quietly started eating.

"Why would you take courses in the summer, anyways?" I asked, still scowling.

Granger frowned at me. "Just because I go to Hogwarts, doesn't mean I have to give up any form of muggle education as well," she replied, whispering the word muggle.

I snorted. "Only you would willingly learn twice what you have to."

She rolled her eyes, and we continued consuming our dinners. It was actually nice to have a change of pace, though I'd prefer it if Granger wasn't there. Mrs. Flynn's home cooking was superb, but it was nice to have something different for a change.

As I ruminated on my cuisine, I could see in my peripheral vision, Granger periodically flicking her eyes up to stare at me for moments. I pretended not to notice, because I didn't want to know what was chewing at her ass. I figured if she wanted to tell me, she would.

I wasn't wrong. After a few more periodic stares, she cleared her throat. Then she did again, until I looked up.

"Er-… Drake, are you going back to school?"

I sighed internally, then shrugged.

She frowned, as if my response had been wholly confusing.

"Well are you?" She pressed.

I glared at her a bit. "I don't know if you're unaware, Granger but hiding usually requires _staying hidden_, or the whole thing is moot."

She seemed to think on that a moment. I took her momentary silence as an opportunity to keep eating. Cut me some slack, I'd just finished a pretty long shift.

"Why are you hiding and not at your home?"

Her questions were getting never ending by this point.

"Let's just say I'm not really wanted at home, Granger, and leave it at that."

"Stop calling me by my last name, it's far too suspicious for two people dining together." She snapped, glancing around at the dinner rush around us.

I gave her a look of disbelief, "Uh, no, Granger. Let's just not do this again."

She glared at me for once, "Fine by me."

"And Granger," Her glare turned more heated. "_Hermione,_" I stressed, giving her a pointed look, "Do not mention-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here, for godssakes. Give me some credit, why would I?" she said this as more of a challenge than a question, but I refused to rise to it and give any more information than I had to.

* * *

The next day, I was back to my normal routine. I was much more calm about the whole situation. I didn't really trust Granger not to spill, but I didn't really have a choice in the matter anymore.

I wondered if it was maybe time to move onto a new town, so if Granger did tell someone and they came looking for me, at least I'd be less easy to find.

At the same time, there could be the same or even worse danger in another town, not to mention that to get to another town, I'd either have to suspiciously walk on foot, or take a train. If there turned out to be someone I know, or a Death Eater on that train, I'd be even more screwed than I already am.

In the end, I decided to stay put for now. Yes, Granger was a set back from my plan, but so far, she didn't seem like much of a threat, so I suppose the best thing to do would be to wait and see what happened. Hopefully she'd be able to keep her big mouth shut.

After my shift that evening I trudged back home. I was beyond tired, not only from the gruelling shift, but also the strain all my stress was putting on me. Granger's reappearance into my life had strengthened my paranoia again and I was back to periodically glancing over my shoulder and around my surroundings. I hated being so out in the open, but hiding in plain sight was the best strategy I had.

I entered my room from the walk out door, then went to the main part of the house for a snack and to say hi to Mrs. Flynn. The old lady was quickly growing on me.

As I grabbed an apple from the kitchen, I heard Mrs. Flynn call out to me from the sitting room.

I entered the room and nearly dropped the apple from my hands, because for the second time in a week, I was flabbergasted by the presence of none other than Hermione Granger.


	5. Chapter 5

As a rule, I was very good at hiding my emotions. I was very proud of my skill at not wearing my heart on my sleeve, and the people who did just blatantly annoyed me.

But in a moment I needed it the most, my skill at discretion seemed to have deserted me.

I stood in the doorway of Mrs. Flynn's sitting room, looking at what appeared to be Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Swot, Goody Two Shoes in the extreme, having tea with my landlady. I didn't think I could physically close my gaping jaw.

Mrs. Flynn didn't seem to notice my extreme shock, and carried on as normal.

"Drake, honey, meet my youngest granddaughter, Hermione. She's around your age, actually. You're at the university this summer, aren't you, Hermione dear."

Granger looked just as surprised as I was, though to her credit she seemed to recover before I did.

"Er, yes I am, grandma," she replied, her voice almost unnoticeably shaky.

"Isn't that nice. Have a seat, Drake, get to know Hermione. I'll go fetch you a cup of tea and some more cookies."

She left the room, smiling widely.

Mrs. Flynn's atypical behaviour shook me out of my stupor, she never gave up the chance to chat with someone. Sometimes I saw her chatting at the uncomfortable mail lady as the poor woman tried to do her job. I stared at the spot she had just been at, and then at Granger's blushing face, putting the clues together.

"Is she trying to set us up?" I asked, outraged.

Granger blushed more deeply. "Um, yeah. She tends to do that to me sometimes. She absolutely cannot understand how I'm still single. Keeps trying to set me up with her friends' grandsons too."

Despite myself, I snorted a laugh. "Too bad she doesn't see you at school with Potty and the Weasel, all her prayers would be answered."

She narrowed her eyes. "Exactly what are you insinuating?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Please Granger, you must know the rumours about you and those two. It's splashed across the Daily Prophet enough."

She flushed again and frowned. "I pay no attention to the lies that batty witch prints in that rag."

"I'm sure, Granger. But the rest of us do, and it's always good for a laugh. How can anyone break Potter's heart that many times?"

She sighed in exasperation.

I carried on snickering at her expense, only letting up when Mrs. Flynn returned with the tea.

"Oh kids, I had almost forgotten, I have a bridge club meeting at Mrs. Forbisher's today."

"Oh, that's alright, I should head home anyways, grandma." Granger said, standing.

"Nonsense darling, I have lasagne in the oven, take it out when it's done and keep Drake some company. I'm sure he would prefer a younger, prettier dining companion to me anyways." She said, winking at me.

It was my turn to blush and duck my head. I noticed Granger holding back a laugh at that and scowled at her, rearranging my expression when Mrs. Flynn swung around to look at me.

"You two have a good dinner, and I'll see you both when I get back. Bye now!" She said, bustling out of the door with much more agility than a woman her age should have.

I stared a bit. "That time she was definitely setting us up. It wasn't even subtle."

Granger rolled her eyes "I bet she didn't even have a bridge meeting. I wouldn't put it passed her to just make up an excuse to leave us alone," she then proceeded to the kitchen. I followed her as she opened the oven and poked at the lasagne.

"How are you even supposed to know when this is done anyways?" She said, still eyeing the poor casserole.

It was my turn to roll my eyes as I gently pushed her out of the way. "Aren't you supposed to be the one with the worldly muggle knowledge?" I said, as I checked how brown the cheese of top was, then shut off the oven.

I pulled Mrs. Flynn's old pink oven mitts on and carefully removed the dish from the oven. I had already gotten a pretty bad burn on my arm from a similar attempt, and thus learned safety the hard way. As I was carefully carving pieces of the lasagne, I caught Granger staring at me strangely.

"What?" I asked her inelegantly.

She gaped a few more seconds then lightly shook her head. "What are you doing here, Malfoy? Pretending to be a muggle? Renting my grandma's basement? Being 'the very sweet lad who I should really get to know better' as my Grandma put it? What are you doing?"

I stalled answering her questions by pretending to be more preoccupied with cutting perfectly sized pieces than I should have been.

I didn't really know how to answer that question. Obviously I was here because I didn't really have another choice but to flee my home. But why I was hiding in plain sight, blending in at a muggle town was a more difficult question.

I could have just as easily of taken off and hidden in a forest somewhere, ridden the war out on my own. I had the supplies, and if I didn't, they were easily attainable. Hiding like that was much easier by yourself anyways. But some kind of instinct told me this was a much better idea. I don't know why, but it just feels like this was where my life was leading me for the last few years. Why I'd stocked up information and supplies of the muggle world. Fleeing to the muggle world, maybe forever, was always in my life plans, even if not consciously at times.

I didn't think I'd ever survive to legal adult age in my parents' manor. That had been made clear to me over the past few years. They were losing control of their carefully constructed alliances, and I'd be damned if I was going to go down with the sinking ship. I didn't know who would be the victor in this war would be, but I did know that I didn't want to be another statistic in the number of lives lost.

To Granger, I muddled up some excuse that probably didn't close the question, but put it off today at least. Small victories, Draco.

We sat rather awkwardly at Mrs. Flynn's table, which was normally fine, but now seemed much too small. We ate in silence, the only sounds the occasional chink of a utensil against a plate. Eventually we finished up, and cleared the plates, me washing and Granger drying in complete and awkward silence. Usually when I did the dishes I would put on music, but that seemed too personal to do with Granger there.

Instead we stood in silence. I ruminated on the fact that we were here. Of all the people to be related to the lady in who's house I was living, it had to be Granger. And not only related, but the favourite grandchild of. Mrs. Flynn never said it outright, but I'd hear quite enough about her 'darling granddaughter' to know that Mrs. Flynn loved her the most. She worried about Granger too. According to Mrs. Flynn, Granger was a brilliant and excellent girl, and Mrs. Flynn just wanted her to be with someone who appreciated that, and didn't try to squash or take advantage of her. She had lobbed some pretty pointed comments at me that I could be that guy, which I pointedly pretended not to hear. Even though I hadn't known she was talking about Granger at the time, I still hadn't fancied being set up by Mrs. Flynn.

But I couldn't fault the old lady. She loved her granddaughter and wanted the best for her. She worried a lot, especially because Granger went to some 'fancy out of town boarding school', which was clue enough to know that Mrs. Flynn did not know about Hogwarts or magic. The old lady really was endearing to me, like the grandmother I'd never had but always wanted. Loving, kind, always happy to see me, worried enough about my 'too skinny frame' to pack me lunch everyday, and so giving. Nothing I asked of her was ever denied. She did everything she could to make sure I was comfortable and happy. I tried not to ask her for much, but sometimes a pile of my laundry would show up on my bed, neatly washed and folded, or a special chocolate would show up in my packed lunch. Meena and Theresa both made fun of my packed lunch the first few times I'd had it, but my refusal to be embarrassed about it and my pleased smile while eating it eventually made them drop the subject outright.

I was really loving being here. I had Mrs. Flynn, who was the parent I'd always wanted, even if she had a habit of hovering sometimes, and I had Meena, Joe, and Theresa, all of whom I'd count as friends now.

Washing dishes with Granger was almost peaceful as we were lost in our own thoughts, until the quiet was shattered by a blood curling scream coming from what seemed to be down the street.


	6. Chapter 6

Granger and I shared a quick look of panic, I knew we both thought the same thing-Death Eaters.

"Did you tell _anyone_?" I asked urgently, a panicked tone entering my voice.

She shook her head adamantly, a frightened look on her face. I believed her for some reason, and I was relieved for a moment, at least I hadn't been sold out. Then I realized I couldn't leave her here. I had to leave, now, and she had to come with me. I didn't know if they were after me or not, but if they caught either of us, we were both dead. Death Eaters had ways of making people talk, and both of us were very hot commodities in this war.

I leaped up from my place, dishes forgotten, and raced down the stairs. I jammed the few belongings and clothes that were littered around the room into my expandable bag and shoved it in my pocket.

I raced upstairs where Granger looked both terrified and determined, her shoes back on, purse slung across her chest, ready to go.

I shot a look at the windows and front door facing the street, where I could see faint red and green lights exploding into the night air. Those did not look like muggle fireworks.

I grabbed Granger's wrist and sprinted back down to my room then out my door that faced the backyard. We ducked behind some bushes, just as some cloaked figure appeared at the end of the street.

I didn't know if they were looking for me or Granger, but I certainly didn't want to find out.

I motioned to the opposite end of the street and we ran from Mrs. Flynn's backyard into the neighbors', keeping behind the bushes. I glanced behind me and saw a building burning in the distance, the fire lighting up the dark night. I mentally hoped that Mrs. Flynn was alright.

As we ducked and ran from backyard to backyard, I internally planned our next course of action.

We couldn't keep running. I didn't know how many more Death Eaters were around, or where they were, but Granger and I were both targets to them.

There was only one solution. I hated to do this, because I was only going on the instructions of my summer tutor back at the manor, and the two successful tries I had at this, but I grabbed Granger's wrist to jerk her to a halt, then wrapped my arms tightly around her, trying not to think of the countless failures I had had at this.

Ignoring her look of shock, I gripped my wand tightly and turned us sharply on the spot, hoping we wouldn't land in bigger trouble than we already were in.

* * *

We slammed into the hard ground, the transport having knocked us off our feet. I felt the breath forcefully leave my lungs, and as I lay there, panting, I took a mental inventory to see if I was okay. Nothing seemed to be radiating pain. My whole body felt tired, and my head hurt, but aside from that, it seemed like I was okay.

"Granger?" I tried to say, my voice more groan than words.

I heard an answering grunt to my right, and propped myself up enough so see Granger sprawled out in the leafy forest floor near me. She propped herself up on an elbow gingerly, her other hand coming up to hold her head.

"Are you alright?" I groaned out, attempting to sit up and managing after a few tries.

She scanned her arms and legs, then tentatively nodded.

"I didn't know you could apparate."

I winced as my sitting up twinged a cut on my arm. "Summer lessons," I grunted.

"I think you need more. Maybe work on that landing." she said, rubbing her forehead.

In response, I shot her a glare.

I felt incredibly tired, like a week's constant sleep wouldn't be enough, but I heaved myself up. Pausing as the world spun around me. When my vision cleared, I hauled my bag out of my pocket.

I staggered a bit on my feet, then started drawing things out of my bag. It seemed like I no longer had a choice in whether or not to keep running.


	7. Chapter 7

Eventually, Granger and I had the tent and stuff we would need inside all set up. Luckily, the tent had some wards precast on it, so we'd be relatively safe.

Soon, we sat in silence in the tent. I had known it was a one man tent, but I didn't know how literal that was taken. There was one medium sized bed, one hard chair, a small kitchenette and a small bathroom. It was much better than the muggle tents I had investigated, but it was still far too small for comfort. I didn't know how our sleeping arrangements would work, but I was more occupied thinking about exactly where we would go from here than the intricacies of our current living situation.

Granger and I were sitting side by side on the floor, leaning against the bed. My feet just about reached the tent wall this way. She seemed just as deep in thought as I was.

"Where exactly are we, Malfoy?" she asked wearily.

"In a forest near Leeds," I replied.

Granger stared at me a bit in surprise. "Why are we here? And why here, exactly?"

"I went here for a vacation once with my parents, stayed in a lodge around here somewhere. It was nice. I don't know why I chose here, it seemed far from where we were, and the ministry, so I just went for it. I aimed for the lodge, but I don't think we ended up too close to it, though this is the forest."

We sat quietly for a few more minutes.

"Did you buy your school supplies?" she asked again.

I nodded.

She sighed. "I did too. I think we should try to get to Hogwarts."

I was surprised. "What, by ourselves? What about the Hogwarts Express?"

She nodded. "I think it's our best bet. I don't think you can waltz into any populated wizard area anymore, what with the hiding from Death Eaters thing, and that includes Diagon Alley and Platform Nine and Three Quarters. But we certainly cannot just stay in this tent here forever. The safest place to be is Hogwarts, and I think being there would be the safest thing for us."

"But if we can't go to any populated wizard locations, use magic, or apparate very well, how are supposed to get there?" I countered.

Hermione rubbed her temples. "I suppose we could use muggle ways. Trains, taxis, busses, and on foot. Try to make our way there."

"That'd only work if we knew where Hogwarts was located, all I know is that it's somewhere in Scotland-" I paused at her small grin, and rolled my eyes. "You know where Hogwarts is, don't you?"

She smiled a bit wider at my exasperation. "Yep. My dad wanted to know when I first went there, so I found out. It's just North of Kintail, so we could get there, theoretically. It's a long journey though, and it'll be quite hard, especially as we get closer to Hogwarts, to avoid witches and wizards. Next to impossible, because I don't think we can cross all those mountains ourselves. But I figure, we'll deal with that when we get there."

"So what? How would we get there?"

Granger thought for a minute, then snapped her fingers.

She pulled a small black rectangle out of her bag, then started to tap one side. I leaned closer to her, trying to see what she was doing. She was surfing from screen to screen as I recognized what it was, a cellphone. Smart phone, to be more accurate, I'd seen enough muggle advertisements of them to know what they were. I had just bought a standard cheap flip-phone for my stay in the muggle world. iPhones like her's were horrendously expensive.

"Ah-ha!" she exclaimed, then held the phone closer to me, showing me the screen.

"According to Google maps, it's a six and a half hour drive from Leeds to Inverness, which I think is the closest big muggle town to Hogwarts. There are trains that run most of that way, and we can take taxis in between. I don't have my driver's license, do you?"

I shook my head.

"Then we rely on public transportation," she continued. "Until we get to Inverness, then we'll have to wing it. But let's focus on getting there first, shall we?"

I nodded absentmindedly, wondering about her plan. The fact that we were relying on public transportation, even if it was muggle, had me uneasy. I didn't want to be in public at all, who knew if I was safe.

"I think," I started slowly, "we should disguise ourselves, just in case. For extra assurance in case someone does happen to see us, so they won't immediately recognize us."

Granger chewed on her lip, thinking about it. "That's not a bad idea. We could dye our hair, maybe change the style a bit, so we just look like ordinary muggle school students that no one would look twice at."

I internally panicked a bit at 'dye hair', but rationalized my hair was the most recognizable thing of my appearance that marked me as a Malfoy.

Granger spoke again after a pause "I think in the morning we should start walking to Leeds, go to a muggle store and stock up on what we'll need. Disguises, Clothes, and food."

I spoke up at this point "Oh, no, Granger, I don't need clothes, I have."

"Right, in that bag. Let me have a look at it."

I reluctantly handed my bag to her, and she held it in front of her face, examining it from all angles, then shoved her whole arm inside.

"Ingenius," she murmured. I stayed quiet and let her examine it.

"Undetectable expansion charm?" She asked.

"That's difficult and rare," Granger noted at my answering nod.

"Yeah, it is, but is very useful and worth the effort I put into making it work."

"Undoubtedly," she murmured, still examining the bag's dimensions.

Granger handed the bag back to me, looking deep in thought again.

"We need to contact my parents and Grandma."

I stared at her in shock.

"Where- why- how would we do that?" I stuttered out.

"Well we have to let them know we're both safe," she rationalized. "My parents are away for the week, and will wonder where I am when they get back, and my Grandma will wonder where we both are. If the muggles are looking for us too our trip back to Hogwarts will be much more difficult, or impossible."

"Well okay," I replied, accepting her premise. "But how would we contact them? For all we know Death Eaters are still in the area, and owls could be intercepted."

"I was thinking more along the lines of mailing a letter to my Grandma, and calling my parents."

I stared again. "What, muggle communication?"

At her nod, I sat back. "Well I suppose that could work." I said quietly.

"What did I think of something the great Malfoy didn't? Did I best you intellectually? Like _always_." She noted gleefully.

"I'm feeling generous, Granger, I saved you from the Death Eaters and even let you share my tent, don't push it." I scowled sulkily. She was so quick at thinking up solutions and I was lagging a bit behind mentally. In my defense, it had been a long day, and my half-assed apparition had taken a lot out of me. I just wanted to curl up and sleep for a week.

Granger chuckled at my grumpiness, then yawned largely, which of course got me yawning too.

"I'm beat," Granger said, standing up.

I rose too, then realized the situation we were in. There was only one bed, and no sofa or anything. I'd have to be sleeping on the bed or the bare floor, and I was way too tired to toss and turn on the ground all night. I was a Malfoy for crying out loud, Malfoys don't sleep on floors. But I was, reluctantly, a gentleman, and there was no way I was letting her sleep on the ground while I took the bed.

The same thoughts seemed to occur to Granger. She turned to me, "Can we be mature enough to share the bed?" she said, bluntly.

I was taken aback. That was awfully compromising for a stubborn Gryffindor. I thought she'd force me onto the floor and as far from her as possible as soon as she could.

"I'm surprised you aren't insisting on having the bed all to yourself, princess." I replied, smirking.

She looked affronted. "I can be fair!" She sniffed haughtily. "And I suppose you did save my life." She admitted begrudgingly.

She paused, then looked up hostilely at me, planting her hands on her hips.

"But so help me God, you make one wrong move and I will punch you in the throat. And balls."

I raised my hands defensively, mocking her, but secretly a bit terrified. I had seen that look in her eyes when she'd punched me in third year, I didn't have any doubt that she'd do it again, if provoked.

She groaned then, and at my questioning expression, explained, "You may have everything you need neatly packed, but I certainly don't. I don't have any clothes with me, or even money. Ugh, this is a disaster." She covered her face with her hands, shoulders slumping in defeat.

I poked one of her shoulders. "Hey Granger, chill out. We'll try to go shopping tomorrow, and I definitely have enough money with me to get you some clothes. Tonight I'll lend you some. So just relax, you're useless to me panicked and disheartened. Buck up."

Granger looked strangely at me, clearly confused by my almost-pep talk. To distract her from reading too much into it, I dug into my bag and drew out an old Slytherin t-shirt and cotton pyjama pants, and chucked them at her head.

She caught them, shooting me a scowl, then looked disgustedly at the logo on the shirt.

I smirked, "What, not to your tastes, princess? I'm sorry I have nothing finer."

She glared at me, "Don't call me princess, you jerk." She muttered, ducking into the washroom, amid my chortles.

All I had to do tonight was sleep as far away from her as physically possible on the bed, then tomorrow we could think up some solutions.

I could do this.


	8. Chapter 8

Massive thanks to my Superb Beta Lil' Bird for being brutal and kind.

* * *

I couldn't do this.

Granger and I were awkwardly lying side by side in the bed that had looked much bigger when two moderately sized humans were not lying in it. I was quite lean, and Granger was downright tiny, and still our upper arms were pressed together to keep either of us from falling off the bed.

I could physically feel the awkwardness pressing down upon us, and I momentarily regretted not just sucking it up and sleeping on the floor. I reminded myself this was just for one night, and that tomorrow we could find a different sleeping arrangement.

I tried to force my brain to shut off and sleep, but as was the case when you try to stop thinking, you end up just thinking more.

Never in a million years would I think that someday I would end up sleeping in a pointedly ONE man tent with one of my self-proclaimed mortal enemies. I say self-proclaimed, because between the choice of one of the golden trio, the Dark Lord or my father; I'd honestly take one of the Golden Trio brats. War had a way of putting childhood hatreds in perspective.

Ignoring the fact that the Gryffindor princess was lying far too close to me for comfort at the moment, there was still the problem present that the entire Dark Side was not pleased with me. To put it lightly. I'd seen Death Eaters tortured and killed for doing much less than I had, and I was still actively repressing the thought that some of the most feared witches and wizards in our current society were hot for my blood. It was a bit too stressful for my brain to perhaps ever be able to deal with.

Nevertheless, we both still managed to fall asleep, which would have been much more difficult had we not just been magically pounded across the British landscape.

* * *

I woke up slowly, unconsciously grinning from being so cozy and from having such a nice sleep. Despite being on the run and on far too many hit lists, I hadn't slept so contentedly in ages, even in the relative safety of Mrs. Flynn's house. I was far too warm to even think of making myself wake up further or open my eyes. I happily drifted in the space between sleep and being awake for a while, content with the bliss that accompanied semi-consciousness.

Even though I could stay in my state of post-sleep bliss forever, my body and mind slowly woke up. I opened my eyes to see the most unexpected sight in front of my eyes.

I had my left arm tucked under Granger's neck, creating a pillow for her, and the other arm wrapped around her slight waist. Her arms were loosely wrapped around my neck, and our legs were very entwined. Our faces were also very close together. I could count the few freckles across the bridge of her nose if I had been so inclined.

It was a small blessing that she was still sound asleep.

I lifted my arm from her waist and slid backwards until I fell off the bed with a small thump.

Luckily she was not woken by my less than graceful actions, and I retreated to the washroom to get ready for the day and to try to wipe the incident from my memory, including the image of Granger lying on the bed, hair spread out around her, wearing my Slytherin pyjamas. Yeah, it was just too disgusting an image to keep. Right, disgusting.

* * *

I exited the washroom to find Granger awake and sitting at the tiny kitchen table, scribbling something into a small notebook. Behind her, eggs were sizzling in a saucepan, and a pile of semi burnt over-buttered toast was standing by the stove.

"What are you writing?" I said, in ways of a greeting.

She looked up at me, looking a bit annoyed at having her concentration broken.

"A list of things we need to do today or soon." She replied, turning back to the list.

She finished it off and stood up, heading toward the washroom.

"Look that over while I'm gone, would you? And mind the eggs."

I poked at the eggs while skimming her excessively detailed list.

At the top was to get to Leeds, get a hotel room, send letters, and get (gulp) hair dye. She had light brown and strawberry blonde on the list. I didn't know which one I preferred. She also had a scribbled list of variations of our last names.

She walked back into the kitchen as I was sliding the eggs onto a plate. Despite Granger starting them, which meant a too hot stove and a few shells in the eggs, I had managed to salvage them. I was surprised at how impaired she was at cooking.

I handed her a plate, as I asked her about the last names.

"Oh, I figure wherever we go, we'll have to have fake names, just in case. We can vary our last names a bit, enough so they're different, but not so much that we can forget them, like you did by changing Malfoy to MacNeil. I figure we can use the same first names, you can still use Drake if you want." She said, munching on some toast, avoiding the burnt bits.

I nodded a bit. "Yeah, sure. That makes sense. But I changed Draco to Drake because Draco is too unique. I think you should choose something instead of Hermione. Everyone's looking for Draco and Hermione, after all."

She shrugged. "Yeah, that makes sense. What could I use? My name doesn't shorten well."

"Herm? Mione?" I said, just to see her scowling at me. "Don't worry, princess, we'll find you a proper name. How about Heidi? Or Hera? Hannah?"

"I like Hera. A greek goddess."

"Perfect for you, princess." I mocked. She scowled again, and I was back to smirking at her ire.

* * *

A few hours later, the tent and all of its belongings were packed up and back in my little bag. We were off, trudging out of the forest using a compass and map he'd found in the tent.

Soon enough, we found a road to follow, and could see the city in the distance. A few cars passed us, which was entirely too frightening for us, given our exposed location. So we would rigidly and slowly walk when they came close, which happened far too much for our comfort. Soon enough, the houses around us grew less sparse and the road better paved as we got closer and closer to the looming city.


	9. Chapter 9

Massive thanks to my Stupendous Beta Lil' Bird for being harsh and necessary.

* * *

I was amazed at how well Granger and I were getting along. We'd been together for nearly two days, and still hadn't had a major fight. I was true that we had barely spoken to each other, silently admitting that she needed my supplies, and I needed her plans and strategies. Like it or not, it seemed like we were a team now. And I certainly didn't like it.

Truth be told, I'd be rather lost without Granger getting us on track and with a plan. But that didn't mean I wanted her to know that. The bossy menace was best kept far away from my person.

And yet I was thankful for her as we stood in the hair dye aisle of a drugstore in Leeds. My muggle knowledge didn't extend far enough to know what to do with the four boxes of dye ("one for you, and three for me" she had explained. And when I'd chuckled at that, "What? My hair's long and thick. You won't be laughing for much longer, soon-to-be brunet," she smirked, which abruptly shut me up).

Soon we were walking down the main street of downtown Leeds.

"How about there?" Granger said, pointing out a small, run-down looking hotel. Though saying it was a hotel was rather generous.

"I don't think so Granger, in case you had forgotten, I am still a Malfoy" I said, whispering my last name. I took her elbow and steered her down the street and soon we were standing in front a hotel that looked fit for a Malfoy.

Granger stood with her mouth gaping in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? This place is a palace! It has to be the most expensive hotel here."

I smirked, "then it's perfect for me."

I steered her inside, as she continued to gape at the marble floors and the shiny brass fixtures.

We approached the main desk, where a middle aged man with carefully trimmed facial hair watched us impartially.

"I'd like to book a suite, two beds please."

He nodded and arranged the room. "And how will you be paying, sir?"

"Cash," I said, smirking arrogantly at his slightly raised eyebrow. The sight of my smirk caused Granger to raise her eyebrow at me, intensifying my smirk, causing her to scowl back at me.

The man handed our key cards to me and we took off for the room.

* * *

Soon we were seated in the room, which was very up to my taste. Our suite consisted of a large sitting room, bath complete with two sinks and marble whirlpool tub, and two bedrooms.

Granger had called her parents, who had not answered, so she had left a message. She hadn't been too concerned by this, stating it was quite normal. We then called the café, leaving a message there too that I was out of town suddenly due to a family emergency, and didn't know when I'd be back.

She had then sat down at the immaculate desk in the sitting room and had penned a letter to her grandmother. I didn't know what excuse she was using, just that she assured me everything would be fine with Mrs. Flynn. I had been more concerned with what Granger was doing currently. She was laying a towel over the dining table and prepping the hair dye that would soon destroy my precious golden locks. According to her, I would soon be a light brunet.

I was uncharacteristically concerned about her dying my hair. Blond hair was the signature Malfoy trait, and it was the last representation of my family I had. Plus I really liked my hair colour. It was my favourite feature.

I was disturbed from my stupor as Granger snapped on rubber gloves, the ominous sound not helping my state of mind.

"Alright Malfoy, sit yourself down," she gestured to the desk chair that she had set up by her impromptu hair station.

I reluctantly took a seat as she laid a towel over my shoulders. I twisted to face her when she didn't immediately start to dye my hair. I saw her standing there with scissors in hand, contemplating my hair.

I immediately jumped up from the chair, startling Granger.

"Absolutely not!" I yelled, cringing internally at how hysterical I sounded. Regardless I continued. "You are not cutting my hair!"

"Malfoy, calm down!" she said with a stern face. "I'm trying to make you look less recognizable. You'll be cutting my hair soon enough too, so it's not just you giving up your hair. God, chill out, do you want to be killed by death eaters the minute one gets in a 20 mile radius of your very recognizable hair and features?"

I had to concede she had a fact, though I was certainly not happy about it. "I hope to God you're better at cutting hair than you are at cooking, though you couldn't be worse."

She scowled at me then nagged me into sitting in the chair again and was soon snipping away.

Even though it was one of my least favourite people currently snipping away at my biggest vanity, having her cut my hair was rather relaxing. Soon she moved onto dying my hair and had turned on the telly. We were then seeing who could shout the answer the fastest to The Weakest Link and betting on who would be eliminated next.

Granger finished up my hair and commanded me to go rinse it out, telling me not to look at it though. I did as she asked, and when I returned, she whipped out a jar of pomade from her shopping bag and proceeded to style my hair. I didn't know what to expect, but when Granger held a mirror up for me, I had to begrudgingly admit I liked it. My hair was a medium brown, lighter than Granger's, and was cut into a pompadour style, with the sides short and the top was combed back with lots of volume. It was certainly different from my normally neat, long, and slick style.

"Alright, it's fine I guess," I told her reluctantly, and she smiled winningly, as if I'd given her the biggest compliment.

I grumbled some more then forced her into the seat. I considered her hair. It was bushy and brown and came down just below her shoulders

I decided to cut it shorter, around her chin, and then dye it. Hopefully the bleach in the dye would help to control the bushiness of her hair.

I started snipping away, as we continued to yell at the telly. I cut her hair to chin length, improvising by adding side swept bangs, and then got to work with the dye.

She had chosen a strawberry blonde colour, which was, as advertised, blonde with a hint of red. It actually worked with her pale skin.

Soon her hair was rinsed and unveiled to her. She examined it from every angle.

She then stared at me with a serious expression. I was worried in that moment, what if I'd messed up so badly on it that she'd attack me? I knew firsthand that she could be violent if prompted.

"Malfoy. I… love it!" she proclaimed, breaking out in a smile. I was taken aback, so she continued, "the colour is better than I'd imagined, and the style is really pretty, and works with my curls. And how'd you make my hair so much less frizzy?"

I was shaken from my surprise, "oh, that's the dye, and I cut your hair in steps, which works your volume out naturally…" I trailed off at the surprised expression Granger was giving me. Maybe I had learned more than I thought when I was little from my mother and her socialite friends' discussions.

"Anyways, at least we look different," I said, distracting her from my somewhat excessive knowledge of feminine things.

"Yes, we do!" She towed me to the big mirror and stood us side by side.

If I hadn't known it was us, I would not have recognized the people in the mirror at first glance. I didn't look as regal, in fact, I looked positively ordinary with my new hair, and Granger looked like a stylish teenager, so nothing like her usual self, with the length of her hair bringing out her cheekbones. In all we achieved our goal of looking nothing like ourselves.

"Well it's been fun, but I'm beat," which was an understatement; considering I still felt like I had been run over by a truck from that attempt at apparation.

Granger hummed in agreement and we made our way to our beds, despite the early hour; I knew tomorrow was going to be just as crazy as today had been.


End file.
